


"Oh God, not you."

by bluemoonrabbit



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: (enemies in the lightest sense of the word), Alternate Universe - College/University, Bonus chapter ft Hyunghyuk, Chicken Soup, Enemies to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pajamas & Sleepwear, Rivals, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemoonrabbit/pseuds/bluemoonrabbit
Summary: “Look, you’ve gone and summoned him,” Hoseok grumbled, narrowing his eyes as the younger boy lazily ran a hand through his silky black hair and cast his eyes around the room to look for open seats.“He’s supposed to be here,” Hyungwon replied unhelpfully. “He paid to be in this class.”In which nothing grinds Hoseok's gears like thehotirritating Chem major in his World Lit class.





	1. "Oh God, not you."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [averyblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/averyblue/gifts).



“... and so another interpretation is that Doctor T.J. Eckleberg’s eyes represent God’s judgement on society,” the professor finished, just as the hands of the clock on the wall struck 11 AM. “Okay, class dismissed. Don’t forget to submit your draft by midnight next week.”

Everyone began packing their belongings and standing up from their cramped lecture hall seats, but Hoseok leaned forward and jotted down the last few lines of his notes. Hyungwon waited patiently, tapping away on his iPhone and sipping at an iced Americano.

“Does everything have to be that deep though?” a deep voice mused to his right. “What if Fitzgerald just thought eyes with glasses were super cool?”

The speaker’s friend laughed, and the speaker joined with his own rumbly chuckle.  

Hoseok bristled. _That pretentious Chem major…_

He was itching to give Im Changkyun a piece of his mind when Hyungwon nudged his calf with a foot.

“Let it go, hyung,” he said, eyes still fixed to his phone screen. He was tweeting something with a suspicious amount of laughing emojis.  

Hoseok squinted at him. Hyungwon’s face was a mask of calm, but Hoseok knew his friend and flatmate well enough to see the shit-eating grin he was fighting to keep from surfacing. The fucker was laughing at him.

“You fucker,” Hoseok growled. “F. Scott Fitzgerald was an artist and—”

“Yes, yes, I know, and all his metaphors and symbolism were intentional,” said Hyungwon indulgently.

Hoseok squinted one last time at Hyungwon before turning his eyes back to the other two. Changkyun was calmly chatting with Minhyuk, his (admittedly handsome) face illuminated by a soft excitement. The sight of his rival smiling and radiating relaxation _— on a Tuesday, no less!_ — made his blood boil. He ran a quick mental tally of all his deadlines coming up. On top of their upcoming World Lit essay, he had a ten-page paper for Poli Sci, a load of readings for Sociology, and a midterm for Philosophy… the sheer amount of work he had to do only served to fuel his rage.

“What do Chem majors even do for assignments?” he groused, shoving his notebook back into his backpack. It collided with something inside and refused to sit nicely. Huffing a frustrated breath, he pulled everything out of his backpack. The offending object was his protein shake, sloshing unappetizingly in its bottle. He grimaced, slammed it down on his dinky hinged lecture desk, and began angrily putting everything back in.

“You could always ask Changkyun,” replied Hyungwon.

“Don’t say his name,” hissed Hoseok. “You’ll summon him.”

Hyungwon shrugged and continued tweeting. “Suit yourself.”

“For your information,” Changkyun’s deep voice cut in. He was looking over at Hoseok and Hyungwon in amusement. “We do practice sets and write lab reports every week. Every single week.”

Hoseok clamped up, embarrassed at being overheard.

Changkyun’s eyes dropped to the bottle of sludgy beige protein shake in Hoseok’s hand.

“Nice,” he smirked. “Have fun with that.”

With that, Changkyun turned around and made for the exit. Minhyuk followed, but not before waving amiably at Hyungwon. They exited the lecture hall in a carefree sweep of denim and leather, leaving Hoseok surrounded by the clutter from his backpack and his best friend still live-tweeting the entire encounter.

It took all of his willpower to not scream out in frustration.

—

After lecture, Hoseok bade goodbye to Hyungwon, bought himself something for an early lunch, then made his way to his favourite student lounge to buckle down and work on his papers.  

The lounge was a hidden gem on their campus. It had been built not too long ago, making the furnishings adequately modern and comfortable (with plenty of power outlets!), but was also _just_ secluded enough that it wasn’t flooded with students seeking to claim new territory as ‘theirs.’ Hoseok prided himself on discovering the spot, and regularly sought refuge there when he had breaks between lectures.

He’d plugged in his laptop and gotten half a page of text written when the glass door swung open. Changkyun walked in with earbuds attached to his ears, and deposited his backpack under a nearby table. If he’d noticed Hoseok, he made no sign of it. Instead, he opened his laptop, pulled out a worn copy of _The Great Gatsby,_ and began working in intense concentration.

Hoseok couldn’t help but watch — covertly, of course — while typing away at his essay outline. This was a side of the other boy he’d never seen before. In their World Lit lecture and tutorial, Changkyun gave off an air of superiority, like he was better than the others who chose arts and humanities as their majors. Despite Hyungwon’s insistence that it was all in Hoseok’s head, he still couldn’t erase from his mind the image of Changkyun’s lazy smirk as they went around the room and recited their names and majors, one by one.

_“Chae Hyungwon, History major.”_

_“Hi, I’m Lee Hoseok, and my major is Sociology.”_

_“... Im Changkyun, Chemistry.”_

_That fucker,_ thought Hoseok. He looked back at his document. It was rife with typos and squiggly red lines. Changkyun, on the other hand, was still the picture of studious diligence working on his World Lit essay.

Hoseok sighed, and shifted in his seat so that his rival was out of his line of sight. It was going to be a long afternoon.

—

Progress was slow but steady, but Hoseok was damned if he let himself be distracted when Changkyun was working so hard. Little by little, he became more absorbed in his work, but a question still lingered in his mind: _Who would be the first to break?_ Luckily for him, Changkyun was so fixed on his work that observing him quickly became boring.

 _Not to mention creepy,_ Hoseok realized, but he shoved the thought out of his mind. He settled into a good rhythm, researching current events that preceded the publication of _The Great Gatsby_ and pulling quotes from the novel that supported his argument. His undivided attention was only broken when a movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye.

Changkyun was stretching languorously, leaning back in his chair and reaching his fingertips to the ceiling. His brows were bunched together, and for the first time, Hoseok realized how tired the other boy looked.

Changkyun slumped back in his chair and lethargically cast his eyes about the room. Before Hoseok could look away, their eyes met. He watched, transfixed, as the other’s face was overtaken by surprise. It occurred to him that he was staring, so he gave a small, cordial nod in greeting. After a beat, Changkyun blinked, then turned his eyes back to his computer screen as though the exchange never occurred.

_Jerk._

Hoseok jammed his earbuds into his ears, cranked up his ambient music, and continued slamming away at his keyboard. If he was typing louder than was acceptable in the hushed lounge… he didn’t really care.

—

“Um,” said Hyungwon, eyeing Hoseok as the latter sat down heavily beside him in World Lit.

“Morning,” Hoseok grunted blearily. “Did you hand in your draft?”

“Yeah, but the real question is why you’re dressed like that—” Hyungwon gestured at Hoseok’s workout clothes, from his grey, skin-tight compression shirt to his athletic shorts that were a couple inches too short “—on a Tuesday morning.”

“I’m going to the gym after class.”

“Are you sure that’s why?” Hyungwon asked suspiciously.

“Um, yeah?” replied Hoseok warily. “Why else would I be wearing my workout things?”

“I don’t know, to prove a point or something?”

“What kind of point would that be?”

“Hyung, you spend twenty minutes just getting dressed to go to class every morning. This isn’t like you,” said Hyungwon in exasperation. “Are you doing this because you’re salty that Changkyun shaded your gross protein shake last week? Do you feel like — I don’t know — like he judged you and you have to prove it doesn’t bother you?”

“What,” Hoseok deadpanned. “No! It’s not that deep. I don’t care what he thinks about me or my appearance or my life choices.”

“Sure,” replied Hyungwon, rolling his eyes. “God, the tension between you two is—”

As much as he wanted (and didn’t want) Hyungwon to finish that sentence, Hoseok never got to hear what he thought of the supposed tension between him and Changkyun. At that moment, the devil himself walked in, somehow looking _more_ punk in all black and _more_ unbothered than he had last week.

“Look, you’ve gone and summoned him,” Hoseok grumbled, narrowing his eyes as the younger boy lazily ran a hand through his silky black hair, casting his eyes around the room to look for open seats.

“He’s supposed to be here,” Hyungwon replied unhelpfully. “He paid to be in this class.”

Changkyun’s gaze landed on Hoseok’s bare legs stretching out from under his lecture desk. He bit his lip and raised a pierced eyebrow. In response, Hoseok stared defiantly at him, challenging him to — to do what exactly? He was unsure. Ogle at him? Call him a gym rat?

Instead, Changkyun did nothing but roll his eyes and look away.

Under his breath, Hyungwon muttered something that sounded a lot like “will y’all fuck already?”

Hoseok stoically ignored him.

In the end, Changkyun chose a spot close to Hoseok and Hyungwon, leaving his backpack on the adjacent seat for Minhyuk. From where Hoseok sat, he could smell Changkyun’s cologne — subtle, fresh, and alluring.

He seethed all through lecture.

—

Hoseok never claimed to be a good person who deserved good things, but there were things he’d only wish upon his very worst enemy — yes, worse than Im Changkyun, that supercilious jerk — and the events that befell him later that day were one of them.

He was loathe to admit that Hyungwon was right to judge his choice of outfit. His suspicions felt like an attack so Hoseok had waved them away, claiming it wasn’t that deep. But what if it _was_ that deep? Maybe subliminally he _had_ felt an irrational urge to reclaim his gym rat identity and wave it in Changkyun’s face that he _liked_ guzzling gross-looking protein shakes and spending long hours at the gym building his body.

So what? Working out made him feel healthy and strong, and he looked fucking great in his tight shirt and short shorts.

But even moreso than his questionable motivations, his outfit choice was just plain bad because it was neither warm nor waterproof. Naturally, the universe saw fit to punish his folly by submerging the campus in a deluge that was not mentioned _at all_ in the weather forecast.  

With only a newspaper to keep his head dry, Hoseok ran down the sidewalk back to his flat, half cursing the rainwater drenching his Nikes and half thanking his dumb self for leaving his laptop at home.

He shivered in the cold, trying his best to keep moving to keep his muscles warm. His socks were completely soaked through. Water squelched disgustingly between his toes. The rain hitting his bare legs felt like sharp shards of ice. But still, he persisted — he only had two more blocks to go. He could literally see his building in the near distance.

Gritting his teeth, he forged on through the rain, so close yet so far, when suddenly—

 _“Shit!”_ he exclaimed as a car sped by, splashing him with rainwater from a deep puddle. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, dripping from head to toe. The cold that had sat on the surface of his skin quickly seeped to his bones. Was this his life? He refused to believe it.

“Fuck fuck _fuck!”_ a deep voice raged from behind him. _“Argh!”_

He turned around. Ten feet behind him, Changkyun was shivering violently on the slick sidewalk, broken umbrella in hand, thoroughly soaked just like him. Hoseok eyed him with pity and commiseration. Changkyun’s presence was an irrational thorn in his side most days, but even he didn’t deserve to walk back home with his jeans and hoodie soaked through and freezing.

Hoseok turned back around again and trudged on. His thick, flannel pajamas were calling out to him.

—

Hoseok slowly awoke to a world of pain. His head felt heavier than a ton of bricks. His nose was stuffed and dripping. His eyes were crusted, sore, and hurt from the light. As he gained consciousness, it dawned horribly on him that he was dying.

In his sleep, he had balled up under the covers to preserve warmth, only to now find himself tangled up in them. Slowly he unravelled his weak, sore limbs from their confines and groped around blindly for his phone.    

> **hojjang**  
>  [ _Help_ ]  
>  [ _Hyungwon_ ]  
>  [ _Help_ ]  
>  [ _Please_ ]  
>  [ _SOS_ ]
> 
> **Starbucks King**  
>  [ _??_ ]
> 
> **hojjang** **  
> ** [ _I’m dying_ ]
> 
> **Starbucks King** **  
> ** [ _i’m dying too ok get in line_ ]
> 
> **hojjang**  
>  [ _Could you at least bring me soup or something please I beg you_ ]
> 
> **Starbucks King**  
>  [ _oh ur actually dying_ ]  
>  [ _i’m on a date on the other side of town rn i literally can’t help u_ ]  
>  [ _don’t we have canned soup?_ ]  
>  [ _i know u like that processed shit_ ]
> 
> **hojjang**  
>  [ _Date > dying friend I see how it is _ ]
> 
> **Starbucks King**  
>  [ _oh my god if we don’t have soup just go buy some we literally live 5 mins from a 7-11_ ]
> 
> **hojjang** **  
> ** [ _Go enjoy your date you traitor_ ]
> 
> **Starbucks King** **  
> ** [ _oh i will_ ]  
>  [ _i’ll pick up congee for dinner ok don’t die_ ]

Despite feeling like utter shit, Hoseok smiled at Hyungwon’s message — before a final one popped onto his screen.    

> **Starbucks King**  
>  [ _cuz if u die i can’t win my bet and collect my ₩20,000_ ]
> 
> **hojjang**  
>  [ _I hope you choke_ ]

Hoseok rolled his eyes, closed Katalk, and hoisted himself up into a sitting position. At this point, it didn’t surprise him one bit that Hyungwon was placing bets on him. He was slightly terrified of what the bet might be about, but for now he had more pressing matters. He contemplated his course of action.

7-Eleven was indeed quite close — closer than the canteen. Hoseok estimated that he could leave the flat and return in fifteen minutes flat if he were to go out and buy soup. If he didn’t change out of his flannel pajamas (and honestly, he didn’t want to), he could be bundled up in his blankets again twenty minutes from now with a hot bowl warming his hands.

 _Sounds like a plan,_ he decided. He tore himself out of bed and slowly made his way to his tiny closet. After pulling on a warm jacket, he grabbed his things, wrapped a mask over his dripping nose, and ventured out with the singular goal of buying enough Campbell’s chicken noodle to tide him over until his cold went away.

The brief walk — only half a block, really — from the lobby of his building to the 7-Eleven was still damp and cold, but this time Hoseok was well-insulated and armed with a sturdy umbrella. He trudged through the rain, ducked through the store’s automatic doors, and stuck his umbrella into the waiting umbrella stand.

The cashier ignored him as he squinted in the fluorescent light and made his way to the canned goods section. Like always, things were more expensive at a convenience store than at a supermarket, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He scanned the shelves, seeking out what he came for, when his eyes landed on one lonely can of soup on the shelf to his right.

He’d gotten there just in time to snag the last can! Sighing in relief, he reached for it, but another hand appeared in his vision and landed on top of his own.

“Oh,” said Hoseok, taken by surprise. He turned to look at the interloper, one hundred percent prepared to plead for the can of soup. Maybe if they saw how pitifully sick he was, they’d be sympathetic and let him have it.

But as soon as he looked at the other, he knew there’d be no such chance.

It was none other than Im Changkyun.

It took half a second longer than usual for Hoseok’s sluggish mind to recognize his rival. For one thing, Changkyun’s face was hidden by a face mask and floppy, unstyled bangs. And, like Hoseok, he’d also foregone wearing proper street clothes and opted for what looked like pajama pants with little moons printed all over. If Hoseok weren’t completely exhausted and done with the situation, he’d probably begrudgingly find it cute that Changkyun wore such clothes while relaxing.

All sympathy for the younger boy vanished as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Oh God, not you,” croaked Changkyun, pulling his mask off his face. He looked and sounded like death warmed over. “Why are you always stalking me? Go away already.”

Hoseok bristled, and pulled off his own mask. He tightened his grip on the can.

 _“Stalking_ you?” he rasped. “You think I want to be here? I’m sick. Just let me buy my soup and I’ll get out of your damn hair.”

 _“Your_ soup?” Changkyun replied incredulously. He tugged at the can. “I saw it first. You just got your filthy paws on it before I did because your legs are longer.”

“Survival of the fittest, bitch,” Hoseok gloated. “The soup is mine, now let the fuck go.”

“That’s not how survival of the fittest works, you dumb jock,” Changkyun gritted. “Give me the soup or I’ll sneeze on you.”

“Yeah, because sneezing on a sick person’s totally going to make a load of difference,” Hoseok replied sarcastically. “Look who’s dumb now. We probably have the same fucking cold. Just give up and buy your own soup somewhere else.”

To his surprise, Changkyun stopped struggling for the can.

“But I’ve already _looked_ everywhere else,” he wailed. To Hoseok’s shock, Changkyun’s red eyes pooled with tears, and he began sniffling piteously. “I looked _everywhere_ and _every store_ was sold out. I give u-up. I _h-hate_ this so much.”

He crumpled to the floor, looking like the very image of the ubiquitous university student experiencing a breakdown.

“A-all I wanted to do t-today was work on the World Lit essay,” Changkyun blubbered, wiping angrily at the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Hoseok’s heart squeezed with sympathy. He crouched down beside Changkyun and placed the can on the floor. Tentatively, he patted the younger’s shaking shoulders.

“Hey… I’m sorry, okay?” he said soothingly. Changkyun’s shoulders continued to quake with sobs. “You can have the soup. I’ll find something else.”

“I _can’t,”_ said Changkyun shakily. “Y-you got to it first and you’re sick too. I-I’ll just — go back and s-sleep it off, I guess… I just r-really wanted the soup,” he added in a tiny voice, as though speaking only to himself.

Hoseok watched with an aching heart as Changkyun dejectedly pulled himself together, sniffling and scrubbing at his tears with the heel of his hand. Watching his rival break down in a 7-Eleven did more to help Hoseok understand him that the entire term sharing an elective class had so far. In that moment, all the pettiness and ill-will Hoseok associated with the younger vanished. He found himself saying something he never thought he’d say in a thousand years.

“Share it with me,” he blurted, catching Changkyun’s sleeve.

Changkyun looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. “What—”

“A can of soup makes two servings,” Hoseok pressed. “One for you and one for me. You live on the floor below mine, right? We’ll stop by your flat so you can grab your laptop, and then we can have soup and work on our essays together.”

“Oh. O-okay?” said Changkyun, eyes wide and confused. He looked like he had no idea what was going on. To be fair, Hoseok didn’t know either.

Hoseok picked up the can of soup with one hand, stood up, and with the other hand hoisted Changkyun up from the floor. He gently dragged the younger to the cashier to pay. As the cashier rang them up, she eyed them with an amused smile playing on her lips.

“Do you want your receipt?”

“I’m good, thanks,” replied Hoseok.

“Have a good day,” said the cashier, grinning like the cat that got into the creamery. Why was everyone grinning like that around him these days?

Hoseok grabbed his umbrella from the stand and opened it outside, pulling Changkyun under its cover with him as they made their way back to the apartment building. Changkyun trotted along beside him without so much as a peep, making him wonder what was going through the younger’s mind. He stole a quick glance.

Changkyun’s expression was still softly twisted with confusion, making him look much younger and more innocent than ever. In spite of himself, Hoseok smiled. This was a pleasant change from the barbs they normally traded in and outside of class.

They stopped on Changkyun’s floor, and Hoseok waited outside in the corridor while the younger fetched his laptop and charger. A few moments later, Changkyun emerged with the aforementioned items, and also a bag of — something.

“What’s this?” Hoseok asked, taking the bag off Changkyun’s hands. He peered inside it.

“Tea and cookies,” Changkyun mumbled. His cheeks were pink.

Hoseok beamed. The day was revealing more and more sides of Changkyun that he’d never expected to see, and he… kind of liked it.

When he unlocked the door to his flat, he was immensely glad that he’d tidied up the day before he got sick. Changkyun meekly followed him inside, toeing off his shoes at the door. His socks had wolves printed on them.

 _Wow._ How surreal was it that Im Changkyun was standing in the entrance of Hoseok’s flat, by Hoseok’s invitation, in his pajamas and wolf-patterned socks?

“Do you need any help?” Changkyun asked, looking around the kitchen. He paused, and a peculiar expression overtook his face before he doubled over and sneezed violently.

Hoseok giggled and handed him a box of tissues. “Are you sure you’re up for cooking?”

Changkyun blew his nose and nodded. “I’m good. I’ll just wash my hands. Like you said, we probably have the same cold anyways.”

“Okay,” replied Hoseok, smiling in amusement. An idea struck him, and he pulled out ingredients for grilled cheese sandwiches from the fridge. “You can heat up the soup then.”

They worked in a silence more comfortable than Hoseok ever imagined, with him on the right-hand side of the stove and Changkyun on the left so that their dominant hands wouldn’t clash. As he prepped the ingredients for sandwiches, in his peripheral vision he could see Changkyun stealing covert glances at him while stirring at the soup in a pot. He suppressed a smile, thinking of all the times he’d turn his gaze to Changkyun in class. It made him wonder if Changkyun watched him too when he wasn’t looking. Suddenly, the idea didn’t seem that ridiculous.   

“If my sinuses weren’t so plugged up, I’d say this smells pretty good,” Hoseok said a few minutes later, prodding at the sandwiches in the pan with a spatula. Melted cheese was beginning to ooze over the crusts of the bread.

Changkyun leaned closer and peered into the pan. His arm was warm against Hoseok’s.

“I haven’t had grilled cheese sandwiches in ages,” Changkyun confessed.

“Really?” Hoseok asked, surprised. The younger nodded. “You’re in for a treat, then. This cheese is the good stuff.”

“I didn’t take you for a foodie,” replied Changkyun. His expression turned mischievous. “Especially not with that protein shake of yours.”

“Hey!” Hoseok laughed, and Changkyun joined in, snickering lightly. Laughing with Changkyun jarred his sore throat, but felt good nonetheless. “Leave my protein shake out of this.”

Changkyun smirked, but this time Hoseok detected no malice from it. The younger stirred a few more times at the soup now simmering in the pot, then turned the element off.

“Soup’s ready. Shall I put the kettle on?” he asked, turning to Hoseok with a relaxed smile.

Hoseok’s breath hitched in his chest.

Outside, the clouds were beginning to part, and sunlight was filtering feebly into the kitchen. The sun’s rays caught Changkyun’s eyes just so, illuminating them softly in golden amber light.

It was beautiful.

On some level he’d always (begrudgingly) known Changkyun was good-looking — he had a nice face, dressed well, smelled clean, so on and so forth. But if someone had told him that one day, Im Changkyun would be standing in his kitchen in his pajamas, with crust in his eyes and snot dripping from his nostrils, and _he would still find him attractive,_ he’d probably have laughed in their face.

 _Oh God,_ thought Hoseok. His heart raced in his chest. _Is this a crush? Has this been a crush all along?_

“Hoseok-ssi?” Changkyun peered at him.

“Huh?” Hoseok shook himself. He sniffled and pasted a smile onto his face. “Why so formal? Call me hyung.”

“We’ve never had a civil conversation before,” Changkyun said quietly. He sounded self-conscious.

Changkyun was making a sincere effort to get along well with him. The knowledge was comforting.

“But here we are,” said Hoseok softly. “About to have lunch together.”

“Yes.” Changkyun smiled. “Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

—

They’d settled down at the kitchen table and had just dug into their meal when Hoseok noticed Changkyun was beginning to shiver visibly. He drew his eyebrows together and reached a hand out to the younger’s brow.

Changkyun’s eyes widened in surprise.

“May I touch your forehead?” Hoseok asked in clarification.

Changkyun nodded slowly and held still for Hoseok to test his temperature. His brow felt like it was on fire.

“You have a fever, Changkyun-ah,” he said, frowning. He stood up and began rifling through the kitchen drawers for fever medication.  

Changkyun groaned. “I have no _time_ to have a fever.”

“I know,” Hoseok sighed. “Do you have any drug allergies?”

“No,” Changkyun sniffed.

“Here’s Tylenol,” said Hoseok, handing him a small white bottle.

With a murmured _‘thank you,’_ Changkyun shook out a tablet and chased it down with a sip of tea.

“Why don’t we eat at the couch instead?” asked Hoseok. “It’ll be comfier. I’ll bring some blankets out so you can keep warm.”

Changkyun sniffled again and nodded. He began placing their dishes onto a tray to move them to the coffee table, so Hoseok returned to his room to fetch some blankets.

When he returned, Changkyun was already sitting cross-legged on the couch. Hoseok sat down beside him and wrapped a throw around the younger’s shoulders, tucking in the ends so the draft wouldn’t hit his fevered skin. Changkyun sat patiently as Hoseok fussed over him, when suddenly—

“Oh God. Are you crying again?”

Changkyun shook his head vigorously, but tears continued spilling from his eyes.

In his panic, Hoseok began piling more blankets onto the younger. He should’ve known it was a bad idea to drag Changkyun to his flat when he was so sick. Changkyun probably missed the comfort of his own bed. He was about to apologize when Changkyun spoke.

“W-why are you being so n-nice to me?” the younger asked shakily. His voice was choked. “I th-thought you hated me.”

“What?” Hoseok said. “No! Well, maybe. But not anymore.”

“I never wanted you to hate me,” Changkyun whimpered. Hoseok’s heart ached.  

“Hey, I don’t hate you, so drink your soup before it gets cold, okay?” said Hoseok gently. He rubbed his hand soothingly on Changkyun’s back and handed him a tissue from the box.  

Changkyun nodded and dabbed away his tears and snot. When his face was as clean as he could get it (read: not very clean), he resumed eating his meal quietly. As he watched the younger sip at his soup, Hoseok continued eating too. His ear hurt when he swallowed and the crisp texture of the sandwich rasped uncomfortably down his sore throat, but he barely noticed as he wondered to himself how Changkyun really felt about him. Was their rivalry just a huge misunderstanding that had snowballed out of control?

“I’m sorry I was such a huge jerk to you,” he said quietly. “I should’ve been more mature. I am older, after all.”

Changkyun blew his nose and shook his head.

“I antagonized you a lot too,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“You did,” said Hoseok with a smile. “You really liked pushing my buttons. Why is that?”

“You rolled your eyes so hard when I mentioned my major in class!” Changkyun replied, pouting adorably. “I was offended, you know.”

“You were smirking!” Hoseok exclaimed. “Like you thought you were better than me with my Sociology major!”

Changkyun shook his head quickly.

“Why does everyone say that about me?” he groused. “It’s not my fault I have resting bitch face.”

Hoseok smiled at the younger. Sitting there and having that honest, heartfelt talk felt like a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. How many weeks of potential friendship had been wasted by a misunderstanding?

“If you have any other grievances against me,” he said sincerely, “I’ll listen to all of them.”

Changkyun turned in his seat to face Hoseok fully.

“Oh boy, do I have grievances against you,” he began seriously. He counted them one by one on his fingers. “You always talked about me behind my back with Hyungwon-hyung.”

“I know,” said Hoseok sadly. “I’m really sorry. I’m not proud of it.”

Changkyun’s mouth fell open in surprise at Hoseok’s sincerity. “I talked about you with Minhyukkie-hyung too. We’re even, hyung.”

“Okay…” said Hoseok dubiously. “Next grievance?”

“I only have one more.”

“Let’s hear it, then. Don’t spare me.”

“You look like a huge prick whenever you come to class in your workout clothes,” Changkyun deadpanned. “Who does that? Parading around in short-shorts…”

Hoseok burst into laughter. “Sorry, but I’m not sorry for that.”

Changkyun grinned. “I didn’t expect you to be.”

—

After the dishes were cleared away, Hoseok and Changkyun stayed sitting cross-legged on the couch, this time facing each other with their laptops in their laps. On the coffee table sat a tissue box, a plastic bag growing fuller and fuller with used, snot-filled tissues, and mugs refilled with hot, steaming tea.

Progress was smooth as they worked on their essays together, bouncing ideas off each other and suggesting words and synonyms to use in their writing. Hoseok had been blinded by his own bias against Changkyun — he’d been so fixated on painting the younger as a stuck-up STEM major that he’d failed to see the wit, fire, and nuanced thinking hidden inside. Changkyun took him by surprise at every turn.

Hoseok shifted in his seat, accidentally nudging Changkyun’s legs with his own as he tried to stretch his muscles. To his surprise, Changkyun merely looked up and smiled softly, extending his own legs out to tangle with Hoseok’s.

Hoseok inhaled sharply.

It felt nice, and he wanted more.

An idea formed in his head — an overwhelming, maybe impulsive desire that gathered on his tongue, eager to spill from his lips. His heart pounded as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Hey Changkyun.”

“Yeah?”

“When we’re not sick anymore, do you—”

The front door rustled with the sound of a key turning in the lock, cutting off Hoseok before he could get the words out. They turned to the source of the sound.

Hyungwon stepped in, muttering to himself as he leaned his dripping umbrella against the wall.

“Hyung!” he called, still not seeing Hoseok and Changkyun sitting pajama-clad and frozen on the couch. “I got your congee, you big baby — _oh.”_

He’d finally turned to see them.

And when he did, a sadistic grin spread over his face.

“I see,” said Hyungwon. Mild dread pooled in Hoseok’s gut in anticipation of the ribbing he was guaranteed to receive. “Thanks for making me 20,000 won richer, lads. Good seeing you, Changkyun. Really good...”

With an unsubtle wink, he deposited the takeout bag of congee on the coffee table and disappeared into his room.

After a beat, Changkyun asked, “Does your roommate regularly make bets on you?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied, rubbing his eyes in fatigue. “Apparently the bet was about you too.”

Changkyun nudged Hoseok’s knee with his own. “You know…”

“Hmm?”

“If I’m not mistaken, technically Hyungwon hasn’t won anything yet.”

Hoseok paused. It sounded like…

“And if I’m not mistaken, you’re not mistaken,” he said tentatively.

“He bought you congee,” said Changkyun casually. It looked like he was fighting a shy smile. “The least you could do is make sure he secures that 20,000 won.”

“You’re absolutely right.” A smile grew on Hoseok’s face. “Changkyun-ah.”

“Yes?” Changkyun too was smiling now. Hoseok marvelled at the dimples that blossomed on the younger’s cheeks, and wondered what he’d discover tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.

“As I was saying before we were interrupted,” he said, taking Changkyun’s hands into his own and lacing their fingers together. “When we’re not sick anymore, will you let me take you out on a date?”

Changkyun squeezed his hands back. “I’d love that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biggest heartfelt thank you to [averyblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/averyblue) who was there for all my highs and lows (and damn were those lows low) every single day for the past month. Sweetheart, you were a ray of light to me, and I'll always be grateful to have you. I hope this little story makes you smile! 
> 
> Thank you to my moots who cheered me on as well! You guys make me proud to be a Monbebe.
> 
> Prompt was taken from [daily au](https://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/178574071011/were-both-sick-and-we-both-grabbed-for-the-last).
> 
> I'm bluem00nrabbit on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluem00nrabbit) and [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/bluem00nrabbit). averyblue is [hojjangkyun](https://twitter.com/hojjangkyun) on twitter. Come say hi to us both!


	2. ₩20,000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus: Hyungwon goes on a date and places a bet.

For the most part, Hyungwon thought he was a good date. He followed all the rules in the book: chew with your mouth closed, open the door for your partner, keep your eyes away from your phone, _et cetera, et cetera._ These were honestly no-brainers.

Theory and practice were, however, two completely different things, especially when the cellphone he’d dutifully left in his jacket pocket began buzzing incessantly with incoming text messages.

Across from him, his date glanced in the direction of the noise.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” Minhyuk asked with a teasing smile.

“Nope,” said Hyungwon, popping the ‘p.’ “They can wait.”

His phone continued to buzz.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hyungwon grumbled. “One second.”

“Take your time,” Minhyuk snickered, taking a sip of his coffee.

Hyungwon unlocked his phone and looked at the notifications. Hoseok was sick — again — and wanted him to bring soup home. He rolled his eyes at his roommate’s dramatics and tapped out a quick response.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” said Hyungwon. “My roommate is sick and acting like a big baby.”

“Nasty cold going around these days.”

“Mhmm.”

“Your roommate… you mean Lee Hoseok?” Minhyuk inquired gleefully.

“Yup. Hey!” Hyungwon cried in mock outrage. “Why are you so happy to talk about another man while you’re on a date with me?”

Minhyuk’s face lit up with joy, and he gave a soaring laugh.

“I only have eyes for you,” he fake-simpered, batting his lashes. “But also for that sexual tension boiling between Hoseok and Changkyunnie.”

“Oh my God, you’ve noticed too?” said Hyungwon, leaning forward.

“How could I _not_ notice? I live with Changkyun. He wouldn’t shut up about Hoseok’s shorts the other day.”

“Wouldn’t shut up?” Hyungwon asked. “In a good way or bad way?”

Minhyuk looked him squarely in the eye. “Is there a difference?”

Hyungwon grimaced and nodded understandingly.

“I can’t take anymore of this, Hyungwon-ah,” Minhyuk groaned, massaging his temples with his fingertips.

“Hey, hey,” Hyungwon soothed, hooking his ankle around Minhyuk’s under the table. “One day we’ll go on double dates with them, we’ll sexile them, they’ll sexile us, and we’ll all laugh about how dumb this was.”

“Hah,” Minhyuk scoffed. “Your optimism is really cute, but we’re going to be listening to their whining until the end of time. Neither of them have the guts to make a move.”

Hyungwon smirked and nudged Minhyuk’s foot with his own. “You wanna bet?”

Minhyuk smiled lazily back. “What are the stakes?” he asked, trailing a foot up Hyungwon’s calf.

“If they get together within the next month,” Hyungwon began, leaning into Minhyuk’s space, “You have to…”

“Yeah?” Minhyuk breathed. His eyes were lidded as he leaned forward.

“Pay me 20,000 won,” Hyungwon deadpanned.

Minhyuk blinked in surprise. He laughed infectiously, prompting Hyungwon to join in. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get you a friend this invested in your ~~love life~~ happiness, am I right?

**Author's Note:**

> Biggest heartfelt thank you to [averyblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/averyblue) who was there for all my highs and lows (and damn were those lows low) every single day for the past month. Sweetheart, you were a ray of light to me, and I'll always be grateful to have you. I hope this little story makes you smile! 
> 
> Thank you to my moots who cheered me on as well! You guys make me proud to be a Monbebe.
> 
> Prompt was taken from [daily au](https://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/178574071011/were-both-sick-and-we-both-grabbed-for-the-last).
> 
> I'm bluem00nrabbit on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluem00nrabbit) and [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/bluem00nrabbit). averyblue is [hojjangkyun](https://twitter.com/hojjangkyun) on twitter. Come say hi to us both!


End file.
